“The storm, it...calls to me.” Amryssa closed her eyes, sealing herself into some private darkness. Her thin chest heaved under her thinner nightgown. “It tells me to go outside. To let it overtake me. Call me home.”
Outside, thunder boomed. The chamber flexed and contracted; Amryssa’s words seemed to stagger toward me from across a handful of miles.
Nausea threatened, but I willed it down.“That isn’t real, Am. Nothing that’s about to happen is. It’s just the nightmare, twisting your mind.Trickingyou.”
“Right,” she said faintly. “You’re...right. Of course.”
I hovered on the threshold, hating myself for doing this to her. I could have unlocked her restraints. Tossed them aside. Iwantedto. But anyone who wandered out into a nightmare would never do it twice. The storm would invade their mind, showing them imagined horrors, turning their darkest fears against them. They’d be driven to end that misery any way they could—whether by jumping from a tower window or clawing out their own heart.
Not the kind of thing anyone came back from.
No, my job was to keep Amryssa safe, so my hand rose to the dagger at my waist, seeking its reassuring hum of magic. If I concentrated, I could make out its whispered words.Protect, protect, protect.Guard her where she belongs.
I squeezed the dagger in acknowledgment. Iwouldprotect. After all, Amryssa had done the same for me, once. She’d saved my life when not a single soul had cared if I’d lived or died. She’d risked herself and asked nothing in return.
Outside, thunder cracked. The buzz in my blood reached a fever pitch, spilling over into a tight smile.
“I love you,” I said, knowing I’d do anything for her. Lie, cheat, steal. Lock her up. Whatever it took. “And I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”
Her smile was tremulous. “I love you, too. Always.”
“Then I’ll see you when it’s over, okay?”
“When it’s over,” she agreed.
At that, I turned away, and locked her door behind me.
2.
I’d made it halfway across the house and was hurrying down a hallway lined with tatty velvet wallpaper when I ran into a housemaid.
She stood motionless in the middle of the corridor. Broken white chunks littered the carpet at her feet—remnants of a plaster bust that had clearly taken a dive from its pedestal.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered in horror. “I was dusting, and heard the thunder, and...” Her throat worked as she aimed a helpless glance at me.
I surveyed the wreckage. The sculpture had been worthless, like everything else in this house, but Olivian would rage over its demise, regardless. Olivian raged overeverything. But right now, that was the least of our concerns.
“Worry about it later,” I said. “For now, just get to your room. Chain up.”
As if in warning, thunder rumbled, making the wall-sconces flicker. Their anemic light did little to dispel the darkness—already, the nightmare permeated the house, driving the candleglow into retreat.
“But the seneschal,” the housemaid warbled. “If he sees this, he’ll fire me. And then I won’t be able to—” She bit her lip, cutting herself off.
I took her measure. We weren’t friendly, exactly, but I was fairly sure her name was Althea. I also knew what she’d hesitated to say—that she had family in town, two young brothers she routinely snuck food to.
Yet another thing Olivian would’ve raged about, if he’d known. Here in the seneschal’s house, we could barely feed ourselves. But the townspeople were no better off than we were, and Althea’s brothers relied on her.
“I won’t tell,” I said. “He won’t know it was you.”
“But—”
“Harlowe,” someone barked.
I startled. Down the hall, a hulking shape emerged from the shadows.
My stomach dropped—Olivian was coming, and if he saw this mess, he’d do as Althea had said. He’d dismiss her. Her brothers would starve, and while I didn’t care for the people of Oceansgate, those boys were only innocent children.
“Go,” I hissed. “Before he sees.”
